


disaster

by redlight



Series: not safe for space (voltron nsfw week 2017) [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Body Worship, Cunnilingus, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Voltron NSFW Week 2017, allura is into that, lance is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 20:11:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11951751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlight/pseuds/redlight
Summary: Lance is a walking, talking natural disaster, brimming with bad ideas and shiny-convincing grins, and Allura is just trying to hold onto some semblance of control.For Voltron NSFW Week, day 4 prompt "bad ideas."





	disaster

**Author's Note:**

> [i swear i can explain](https://soundcloud.com/thefactoury/u-r-wut-u-eat)  
>     
> (sooooo if you know me irl you should know that i am VERY dangerous and i can cry AND punch people, at the SAME TIME.)
> 
> (yeah i'm keeping up this ridiculous warning thing)
> 
> hi i'm just wondering where the hell is my allurance content after season 3?? no matter if it's romantic, sexual, or platonic there is NEVER ENOUGH.
> 
> welp, here, have lance worshiping his princess.
> 
> EDIT 3/24/2018: i changed the title from "walking disaster" to just "disaster" bc i like that better lol thanks

Allura doesn't make it a habit to lie to herself, and the real, honest, factual _truth_ is that Lance is somewhat of a walking natural disaster.

It shines through in everything he does – hurricane eyes and restless legs that never stop tapping, fingers that won't stop tangling through her hair whenever he gets the opportunity. A smirk that's always on the precipice of tipping into a nervous chuckle, lips that are soft from chapstick but taste metallic because Lance can't ever stop biting them, distressed-disheveled brown hair because he’s constantly playing with the strands as he jitters.

He can't stay _still_ , really. Can't ever sit calm and quiet, can't pause to take a _breath_. Lance spirals a little too fast and a lot too wild, and that fact about him translates to – well, it translates to a lot of the things he does.

Things that make Allura’s cheeks flush, makes her press her thighs together, makes her _squirm_ and grumble under her breath as she rakes her fingers through her hair and tugs at her roots gently, _just like Lance does_ –

Things that make it hard for to keep her voice subdued. Things that make it all-too-easy for her to be persuaded into what are, quite frankly, _horrible ideas_.

Like, well, now.

Now, with Allura fidgeting _herself_ , legs bare and her skirt thrown off to the side as she writhes on the castle bridge’s floor, with that head of distressed brown hair pressed between her thighs.

Lance’s fingers – usually fidgeting, always tapping or making that awful _crack_ noise that Lance does to himself whenever he's frustrated or – _or something_ , Allura will have to ask the reason _why_ next time because it's rather _irritating_ –

Except, except right _now_ his fingers are pressing hotly into her thighs, spreading them apart and making her flesh acquiesce to his grip.

And that's – that's pleasant, because at least Lance is keeping _himself_ still for once, in the same relative position – pushing her thighs higher and farther apart as his nose nudges against her overworked clit and he tongues at her entrance, t-tracing around her labia –

Allura squeaks as Lance pushes her enough that her back falls flat against the cool floor, somewhat shocking against her overheated skin where her shirt is hiked up high. “This is – ” Allura tries to _speak_ , tries to think coherently, but –

But Lance hums against her, a heavy, low vibration that makes her jerk her feet weakly in response. Lance is unfazed – her heels barely press against his shoulders at the angle he's holding her at.

“La – _Lance_! What if someone comes i-i-in – _o-oh –_ ” Allura yelps as Lance finally moves one hand to push a finger inside her, all-too-slowly as he moves up to suck her clit into his wet, hot mouth – heated blue eyes meeting hers and, and, and _quiznak_ his sea-black pupils are dilated and shining with _pride_ , of _course_ he's smug about this –

Allura squirms as he presses another finger inside her, slipping easily through her wetness and his saliva as he tears himself from her cunt to mouth at her quivery stomach. “What _if_ someone comes in?” Lance drawls, lifting his head to stare her in the eye, voice hoarse and raspy even as he grins to himself. “ _God_ , you’re beautiful, gorgeous, _gorgeous_ – I just wanna make you feel good, Princess.”

Allura can't help but clench around his fingers at the sound of his words, at the sound of his voice all _ruined_ like that, but she whines and throws her head back against the floor. Quiznak, this really _is_ a horrible idea.

Lance ducks his head to press open-mouthed kisses all over the flesh of her shivering tummy – oh, he’ll probably leave marks, dark and circular like planetary orbits and Allura bites her tongue down on a moan. Her fingers drag weakly against the floor and she pulls herself up again, hiccuping softly.

“L-Lance,” and Lance’s fingers crook just _right_ and Allura squeals, thighs clamping tight around his wrist. “ _Lance_. This i-is a b-bad idea.”

“Love it when you say my name like that,” Lance rasps out, looking at her reverently and skimming his free fingertips down her collarbone. He’s so – so _warm_ , do all Earthlings run as hot as he does?

Allura tries to shake her hair out of her face, but so many strands are sticking to her forehead and cheeks, plastered on with sweat. “Lance!”

“Yeah, this is a _really_ bad idea,” Lance agrees breathily. “Can you enable me for a little while longer? Please? Princess?”

Allura frowns at him, and Lance’s fragile, shipwreck smirk starts to sink.

“Sorry, sorry, I – I’ll stop if you want me to – ” His fingers start tapping against her hips in a nervous rhythm.

Allura groans and slumps back. “Please don't stop,” she whispers, voice just as raspy as his is. “Please keep m-making me – ” She whines, low in her throat. “Please keep making me feel good, Lance.”

“I – ” Lance’s eyes go very, very wide, pretty blue and hungry. “Alright,” he says. “Alright, alright, I’ll make you feel good, Princess.”

Allura nods, breathless. Her fingers play with her own messy hair, pushing wayward strands out of her face with a fidgeting hand, and she spreads her thighs wide again.


End file.
